


cave bestiam

by rockymountainvixen



Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons)
Genre: Bad Implications, Death, Heavy gore, Horror, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-16 02:36:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21263696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rockymountainvixen/pseuds/rockymountainvixen
Summary: “I picked up take out for dinner,” Barbara called up to him “Why don’t you come down and have some while it’s warm?”Jim grinned and pushed his chair away from the desk, take out sounded great “Be right down Mom,”Jim made it to the top of the stairs in record time and was just about to start heading down when a hand clapped over his mouth.Before he could even think about screaming or struggling, a tremulous voice whispered in his ear “Don’t go down there,” his mom said “I heard it to,”





	cave bestiam

**Author's Note:**

> Strong content warning. This story contains a scene with heavy gore as wells as some very gruesome implications. I'll summarize these scenes in the bottom notes; so if you don't care about spoilers you can scroll all the way down, read them, and then decide if this story is for you.

  1. 7=(3x+8)/x Solve for x. 

Jim tapped his pencil against the wood of his desk as he studied the problem. He’d been at this for a while, the world beyond his bedroom window was dark, the sun having set over an hour ago. Now he just needed to work through three more problems and get started on his history paper, then he would be home free for the night.

From downstairs he heard the front door open and shut “Jim, honey, I’m home,” his mom’s voice drifted upstairs.

“I’m doing homework,” Jim shouted back through his open bedroom door.

“I picked up take out for dinner,” Barbara called up to him “Why don’t you come down and have some while it’s warm?”

Jim grinned and pushed his chair away from the desk, take out sounded great “Be right down Mom,”

Jim made it to the top of the stairs in record time and was just about to start heading down when a hand clapped over his mouth.

Before he could even think about screaming or struggling, a tremulous voice whispered in his ear “Don’t go down there,” his mom said “I heard it to,”

Jim froze, blood turning to ice in his veins. Slowly, he turned his head to the side. Frightened blue eyes framed in red and shielded by glass lenses filled his vision. 

“Hurry up sweetie,” mom, _ another mom, _ called from downstairs “Your food’s getting cold,” 

Barbara glanced anxiously down the stairs as she slowly pried her hand off of Jim’s mouth.

“Hon?” the voice came again.

Jim struggled to get words out past the massive knot in his throat “B-- be right there, just going to wash up first,” he slowly edged away from the top of the stairs, his mom, 

_ she was his mom wasn’t she _

Gently grabbed him by the shoulder and tugged him towards the bathroom. Once they were both inside she gently eased the door shut and clicked the lock, letting out a deep breath.

What was happening? How could his mom be with him in the bathroom and calling him from downstairs at the same time?

“Mom…” Jim said softly “Who is that?”

Barbara glanced back towards him, face ashen. Aside from how positively freaked out she looked right now, everything about her was the same. Hair pulled back in its standard bun, glasses slightly askew, rumpled lab coat over teal scrubs. Comforting. Familiar. _ Mom _.

But then who was downstairs?

Calling a friendly greeting, cheerfully inviting him down to share take out. That voice...was just as familiar to him as the woman standing three feet away.

“I don’t know,” she moved towards the window and started to fiddle with the latch “We need to go, now. Once I get this open head over to Toby’s and call the police, I’ll be right behind you,”

A gentle knock on the bathroom door caused both of them to jump “You ok in there honey?” a warm voice called from the other side of the door.

Barbara stood by the open window, frantically gesturing for Jim to go out.

But all he could do was stare at her, motionless.

“Jim,” the voice he’d known all his life came again, separated from him by a mere inch and a half of wood “Can you answer me?”

Over by the window Barbara was gesturing even more desperately now, mouthing ‘Go’ at him while flapping a hand towards the night beyond, but Jim couldn’t move from where he was.

Her, the voice from behind the door; he didn’t know which one was real. Nothing about either one of them set off any alarm bells in his head. How did he know that the woman in the bathroom with him was his real mom and the voice was an imposter and not the other way around?

The lock to the bathroom door popped open, sending Jim’s heart straight up into his throat. Mentally he smacked himself, why did he think a locked door would stop whoever that was, anyone with a paperclip could pick the locks in their house. Both of them stared in taut silence as the door slowly inched open. 

His mom stepped into the bathroom, confused frown on her familiar face “You ok in here? I thought I heard--” 

She locked eyes with her double froze. Identical twins facing each other from across the room. This was too much, this was unreal. Jim backed into the bathroom sink, head spinning.

“Who are you?” Barbara by the door spoke up, voice low and guarded “What are you doing in my house?” her eyes flicked over in his direction “Jim, come with me right now,”

“Jim, listen to me,” said Barbara by the window “That woman is not your mother, stay away from her,”

Other Barbara’s eyes flashed and she took half a step further into the room “Jim whoever that is is lying, we need to go _ now _,”

“You’re not going anywhere with my son!”

“You’re delusional. Jim’s my son, not yours!”

Porcelain dug into his spine as Jim futilely tried to back away further. His eyes darted back and forth between the doppelgangers that had started to circle each other, twin lionesses dueling for a cub. Logic told him that at least one of these two had to be fake, but he had no idea which one it was.

Jim’s hands were shaking, his breath came in shallow pants. This all seemed like a scene from some twisted nightmare, but it was too stark, too clear, too _ real _for him to be so lucky.

Somehow guilt snuck in along with the hysteria and panic. He should just _ know _, by some primal blood bond, who his real mom was. But he didn’t, couldn’t, they were mirror images from head to toe. For all he knew both of them were fake. 

His head was spinning, the world was turning into a blur of red hair, green scrubs, and white lab coats. Everything about them was the same, from their glasses to their crocs, even their lavender perfume was--

The world crashed to a screeching halt.

“What take out did you get?”

Both of them started at the sound of his voice.

“You said you bought take out,” Jim kept his voice low and steady, despite his steadily rising panic “What did you buy?”

She blinked, his mom who wasn’t his mom “That doesn’t matter right now, please just come with me,”

“Tell me,”

The hurt look on her face was almost enough to fool him “I picked up food from the new chinese place on main, I don’t remember what I bought specifically,” she held out a hand in his direction “Please, get away from that woman right now,”

Jim started to edge closer to the window, towards his mom, his _ real _ mom “Then why don’t I smell it?”

The fake blinked at him, hand still outstretched “What?”

Jim sided up to Barbara, allowing her to wrap a protective arm around his shoulders “If you had really spent twenty minutes in the car with take out I would smell it on you,”

He couldn’t smell it because there had never been any take out.

Because this wasn’t his mom.

The confused look slowly slid off of her face, replaced with a cold, blank stare. Her hand fell back to her side as she straightened up.

“I’d hoped you wouldn’t find out like this,” her voice was soft in a way that terrified him.

Barbara slowly stepped backwards toward the open window, pulling Jim along with her.

“That woman used to be your mother, but not anymore,” the fake Barbara continued “You’re mine now,”

She smiled at him, so familiar and _ wrong _ on her face “The order promised you to me,”

She lunged.

Before Jim could react she grabbed his arm and jerked him forward, dragging him towards the door. He tried to squirm away but her grip was iron.

“Come along now, no reason to fuss, I’ll take good care of you, I--”

Whatever else the fake tried to say was lost as Barbara charged her and smashed the toilet tank lid over her head, knocking her glasses off and spraying porcelain shards across the bathroom. Forcing the fake to pause and loosen her grip on his arm. 

Seizing her chance, Barbara grabbed Jim by the other arm and raced out of the bathroom. They took the stairs two at a time, sprinting towards the front door. 

A blur, a hint of motion far too fast for the eye to catch, and she was standing at the foot of the stairs. The imposter. The fake. Whatever lingering doubt he had was gone as soon as he looked into her eyes. Instead of being the deep blue of his and his mom’s eyes, her eyes were now a seamless, glossy black.

“All of this struggling is pointless, the boy is my child now, and there is nothing you can do to stop me from taking him,”

Barbara grabbed an umbrella hanging off the banister and swung with all her might. Only for the fake to calmly grab the end before it could hit her and jab it at back at Barbara, catching her in the throat with the handle and sending her staggering.

Looking back towards Jim, the fake smiled again, pearly white beneath bottomless black, and took a step closer.

His blood turned to ice. Jim bolted towards the kitchen not even looking where he was going so much as navigating on instinct. He hit the corner of the counter in his mad dash, hot stich of agony stabbing through his side. Forcing back the throbbing pain in his belly, Jim scrambled towards the knife block. He managed to wrap his fingers around the Santoku just as the fake grabbed his jacket and wrenched him towards her.

“There’s no reason to be frightened,” she crooned in a voice that wasn’t hers “I’ll take very good care of you. Once you’re with me you won’t ever be hungry or sad or hurt ever again, I’ll--”

Jim brought the Santoku down as hard as he could, releasing a sound like fingernails on a chalkboard as the knife skated harmlessly across her chest.

The fake looked more surprised than anything else “Now that wasn’t very nice,”

Jim couldn’t move, paralyzed with shock. He had just stabbed this woman with one of the best knives that money could buy and she was completely--

No, she wasn’t.

The knife hadn’t penetrated her, but it had torn clean through her scrubs, lab coat, and…

Skin.

A flap of fleshy material hung down like a curtain, exposing the smooth, black surface beneath it.

Marred by a faint scratch from his knife.

Out of the blue Barbara rushed in from behind; fists tight around wooden rods, and smashed a chair down right on top of the fake, tearing off even more skin but not even causing her to flinch. 

She slowly turned in Barbara’s direction, dark eyes narrowed in annoyance. 

“I’d hoped to do this as cleanly as I could, but you leave me no choice,” the fake’s left hand shot out with inhuman speed, grabbing Barbara by the neck. 

Barbara seized the fake’s wrist and twisted, Krav maga orange belt in action, freeing herself and sending the two of them tumbling to the floor, crashing into furniture and knocking its contents to the ground as they tore at each other. 

Jim tightened his grip on the Santoku, ready to give Barbara back up. For an instant he worried about getting the two confused, and stabbing his mom on accident.

As they continued to claw at each other, it soon became clear that wouldn’t happen.

The other Barbara, the fake, was losing more skin, exposing polished, ebony flesh. Her limbs twisted and popped, elongating and gaining joints as she and Barbara wrestled on the kitchen floor.

The horrifying truth sank in. The thought that had been squirming around his skull ever since he’d heard his mother call him from downstairs while she stood beside him on the landing crystallized into reality. Whoever this was, she wasn’t human. 

Suddenly the fake managed to pin his mom to the linoleum, twisting herself on top to hold her down. Jim seized his chance, he brought down the knife as hard as he could, again and again, but to no avail. The tempered steel could do no more than give her faint scratches. 

The sound of popping tendons was the only warning Jim received as something shot out in front of his face, knocking the knife from his hand. 

A long, thin limb, dark and gnarled as an ebony tree root, hovered in front of him, twisting obscenely in her shoulder join along with her arm. Limp peels of skin hung on her torso from where the new limb tore itself free. The fake turned and grinned at him through the tatters of his mother’s face, four new eyes revealed from underneath the shredded skin “Come now sweetness, that’s enough of that,”

Taking advantage of the fake’s divided attention, Barbara kicked her in the chest and sent her flying. 

The fake landed in a symphony of sickening cracks, more limbs popping and tearing their way of her shoulders as she quickly righted herself and slid to a stop on the polished floor. 

She, it, the _ thing _, didn’t even resemble a person anymore. While her legs and lower body were still clothed in skin and scrubs, the rest of her was not. Her torso was smooth and seamless, no folds, breasts, or wrinkles, not even a belly button, sleek and uniform as an armor plate. Multiple sets of arms sprouted from each shoulder socket, gangly and multi jointed, too twisted to count. Scraps of flesh hanging from them like forgotten rags. 

Her face was almost human, but not quite. Nose flat and slitted, what Toby might call a Voldemort nose. No fewer than a dozen eyes dotted her face, clusters of smaller satellites circling the larger spheres embedded in sockets. All blinking in their own time; like sinister, twinkling stars.

It grinned, revealing thin, transparent teeth, wickedly sharp “Time to bring this to an end,”

It charged, slamming Barbara into the wall. A small wheeze was forced out between Barbara’s lips as her chest was crushed beneath the thing’s many limbs, her arms and legs twitching helplessly.

“Don’t feel too bad,” the thing with his mother’s voice said “You were a decent mother for many years,” there was a crack as it’s joints tightened, increasing the pressure between Barbara and the wall “But I’m his mother now, your time is done,”

Jim watched in horror, heart threatening to beat out of his chest, a scream trapped in his throat.

It wasn’t strangling her, it was squeezing her, like a boa constrictor. Going tighter and tighter around its victim’s chest, constricting the rib cage, not letting them take in a single breath, going tighter and tighter until their prey was suffocated, until they were dead.

This thing was crushing his mom, it was going to kill her.

That thought was enough to snap him out of his paralysis. Jim grabbed the nearest blunt object, a frying pan, and hit it. Over and over, with all the force he could muster. But he might as well be hitting a brick wall. Nothing he was doing was having an effect. The thing’s limbs creaked again, his mom’s struggles were slowing, her face was turning blue.

Jim started to tremble all over. He had to _ do _ something, help her, save her, he couldn’t let his mom die, he couldn’t let this thing kill her, even if--

“I’ll go with you!”

The thing snapped it’s head in his direction. It didn’t ease up the pressure on Barbara, but it didn’t increase it either.

“I...I...I’ll go with you...I’ll be your son...just please...let her go…” Jim forced the words out even as he wanted to take them back “I’ll be yours...but only if you let her go,”

It smiled, a small dainty thing that looked even more unattural on her monstrous face “Now that’s better,” she uncoiled her limbs from Barbara, sending her sliding to the ground. 

Barbara coughed and twitched on the kitchen floor, taking in huge lungfuls of air, sending a rush of relief through him. Even as the thing turned towards him, spreading all of her limbs wide. An invitation. A trap “Come dear,” she cooed, still in her stolen voice “Give your new mother a hug,”

Jim shrank in the face of this monstrosity, every instinct in his body screamed at him to get as far away as possible. But he couldn’t, his mom’s life was on the line. He forced himself to go closer, trembling more and more with each step. As soon as he was near enough it drew its arms in around him. Hard, craggy limbs pressed against his back and shoulders, pulling him up against the thing’s chest; cold, slick, and unyielding beneath his cheek. 

Jim quivered under it’s touch as it drew him into a repulsive mockery of an embrace. 

Barbara was still too breathless to talk, but her horror-struck expression spoke volumes. She struggled to her feet, clinging to the wall, desperately mouthing ‘no’ over and over again.

The thing smiled at her; slow, easy and smug “You see, he’s made his choice,” Jim gagged as claw like fingers caressed his hair “It’s time to face the facts, it’s over for you,”

Quick as lightning, one of her limbs broke free from the rest towards Barbara, retracting just as fast. For a second no one moved, then one of Barbara’s hands went up to her neck. 

Blood spilled out from beneath her fingers.

The bottom dropped out of his world as Jim watched, helpless and horrified, as the neon red fluid poured past her fingers and dripped to the floor. 

“_ Mom! _”

He screamed and trashed in the thing’s grip, but it held him fast. All Jim could do was squirm against her as Barbara sank to the ground, her hands flapping at her throat, desperately trying to stem the blood still streaming from her neck.

There was the sound of more flesh twisting and popping as Jim’s feet left to floor, but all he could focus on was his mom, drenched in her own blood.

And then he was moving, out the backdoor and into the woods. His mom vanishing from sight as the thing dragged him deeper into the night. He flailed and squirmed and fought the whole way, sobbing and screaming and trying to free himself but to no avail. At some point he must have started crying, cold tracks of tears on his cheeks, but he couldn’t pinpoint when. 

In some distant, detached portion of his mind Jim was aware of the cool night air on his skin and trees rushing past. But all he could see was Barbara; crumpled in a heap on the floor, hands clasped to her bleeding neck.

He was pulled back to reality by the already dark woods suddenly becoming even darker.

Jerking his head around, Jim saw that he was surrounded by stone, the moonlit forest vanishing from sight as the thing made a turn down the steep, rocky tunnel.

“Home sweet home,” it crooned, voice somehow still a sickly sweet parody of his mom’s.

His mom who was probably dead by now. 

Blood on the floor. Hands at her throat. Jim’s name on her lips.

White hot anger surged through the grief “Fuck you,” he growled, he’d never spoken to an adult like this, he’d never spoken to _ anyone _ like this “You’re not my mom, _ I don’t care what you do to me you’ll never be m _\--”

Something silky and snug came over his mouth, immobilizing his jaw and cutting off speech. Jim strained to see what it was, white?

“Don’t speak to your mother that way,”

Without warning it dropped him. Jim landing hard on his knees, pain stabbing through the joints. A wheeze forced itself out of his lungs, only to be smothered by the gag. Shivering with pain, Jim rolled to his side, knees twitching and throbbing in unison. He didn’t think anything had broken in his legs but they _ hurt _, and he knew he couldn’t walk like this. 

Before he could get his bearings two of the thing’s hands pulled his wrists out and bound them together. Jim could see it clearly this time; a bundle of soft white fibers, impossibly tight and strong, cutting into his wrists.

Jim glanced over to the thing, only to jerk backwards involuntarily. 

He’d seen bits and pieces of her true form, as her disguise came undone, but now the entirety of her true form was laid bare.

Most of her mass was comprised of a gigantic bulb, rounded in front before tapering to a narrow point, propped up on a forest of gnarled limbs. Just as inky dark and smooth as the rest of her. The torso and abdomen were almost human like, jutting straight up from the front of her thorax, even more twisted limbs jutting out from her shoulder sockets. Jim would call them arms, but arms weren’t that long and didn’t have all those extra joints. 

Her head was smooth and perfectly round, bald to a polish. Face absent of defining features, such as a nose or cheekbones, speckled with prismatic black eyes. And then her mouth. An impossibly wide thing full of rows upon rows of glassy, needle like teeth. Like a shark or a leech. That was somehow smiling. 

She lifted her gaze upwards “Time to tuck you in,”

Jim followed her line of sight toward the ceiling, only to have his heart freeze in shock. He’d been so focused on the thing that he hadn’t noticed his surroundings. They were in a large cave chamber, various holes dotting the ceiling and allowing spotty moonlight. The air was musty and dank. Like an old basement that hadn’t been open to the air in years, the kind that made him want to open a window. The entire space was covered in the same silky, white strands that bound his wrists and jaw. 

At least a dozen large white bundles swathed in the stuff hung suspended from the ceiling. They ranged from about three feet to six feet long, and the way they were dangling made him think of caterpillars or--

Jim’s mouth went dry.

Bodies. These were dead bodies.

Nonchalant, the thing raised a hand and prodded at one of the bundles. A low, dry moan drifted out..

The blood drained from Jim’s face as he realized that none of these bodies were dead at all.

The thing went from bundle to bundle, prodding each of them until they made some kind of noise; either a moan or a weak cry. Eventually she came to one that remained silent no matter how much she jabbed at it. With a satisfied nod she lifted an arm and cut it down with a single swipe.

The bundle fell to the ground with a sickening thud. The thing then turned its attention back towards Jim; wide, toothed smile on its face.

The second their eyes met Jim’s heart shot up into his throat.

Too late he realized what she was going to do.

Scrambling, Jim tried to put some distance between them, forcing himself to ignore the throbbing pain is his knees. He was too slow, the thing snatched his bound wrists and yanked him off his feet. She looped the free hanging silk strand around his wrists, tightly securing him.

Jim twisted and kicked his legs out, anything to try to free himself. It was no use, the strands held fast and his legs barely had any strength thanks to his knees being so badly bruised. A helpless worm on a hook.

Making an amused tut tut sound from the back of her throat, the thing grabbed his feet and held them in place “None of that now,”

Jim screamed into his gag as she started winding silk strands around his sneakers.

He had to get away, he couldn’t end up like the others. Jim was sure that’s what they were, other kids that she snatched while pretending to be their moms, strung up like living dead dolls.

“There there, no reason to fuss,” the thing crooned.

His feet and ankles were completely encased now.

“I’ll wrap you up nice and cosy,”

Jim trashed even harder. He had escape. Had to get away. Somewhere, anywhere but here.

“Then it will just be one quick poke,” needle sharp teeth flashed as she grinned at him “So sharp you won’t even feel it,”

Jim’s heart was pounding so loud he was amazed she didn’t hear it, despite all his thrashing and writhing, the strands wound midway up his calves now.

“I’ll take very good care of you, after all….” she leaned in close, sniffing at his hair “It’s not very often I run across a boy as sweet as you,”

Hearing those words his heart stopped.

The reason she took all these kids suddenly clicked into place.

And Jim wished it hadn’t.

The horror rising in him was so sudden, so overpowering, Jim went limp in his bindings, utterly overwhelmed with fear.

He wanted to move. Scream, fight get, away. But he couldn’t, all Jim could do was tremble.

He wasn’t going to escape, he was going to be trapped here forever, this thing was going to mummify him and then--

“Oh yes,” she crooned, leaning in close and running one scaled hand against the side of his face “I should be able to keep you with me for years,”

Jim could see his reflection in her bottomless black eyes. Puffy face, red from crying, tears and mucus smeared all over his cheeks. 

How long before that face was buried in silk?

His wrists ached from supporting the full weight of his body, his arms were going numb. The silk was up to his knees now, and her many hands kept spinning it higher.

Jim’s heart sank down into the pit of his stomach.

He wasn’t going to escape. There wasn’t going to be any rescue. Jim was going to die here.

A long finger wiped away a tear “Hush my dear,” she leaned in close “All good children feed their mothers,”

Jim sobbed from beneath the gag.

“Soon you’ll be snug and cosy; no more hunger, no more pain,” she whispered with horrifying gentleness “You won’t have to worry about anything anymoaaaaAAAAARRRRRRGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!”

Her words stretched out into a screech of agony. The thing whirled around, Jim strained to follow its line of sight.

His mom.

Alive.

Axe in hand. Wad of duct tape and gauze on her neck. Eyes blazing with blue fire. 

One of the thing’s severed legs on the cave floor.

“Get. Your hands. _ Off. My. Son! _”

The thing hissed and advanced on her “You dare attack me in my own lair?! I tolerated your disrespect human, but now--”

Barbara sprayed a small canister directly into her face. 

The thing shrieked, high and sharp.

“_ You bitch! What did you do to my eyes?! I’ll feed you your own sinew for this!” _

She scrambled around the cave, limbs flailing out in every direction, blindly groping for her.

Barbara sidestepped and ran towards Jim. She stood on top of the fallen bundle and began tugging at the silk around his wrists. The fact that she was using the bundle as a foot stool made Jim a little queasy, but she was alive.

Alive, alive, alive. 

The silk around his wrists slipped free and Jim fell to the ground, grunting as pain radiated up his tailbone. 

His mom was on him in seconds, pulling at the silk on his legs. Jim tried to help her the best he could with bound wrists and numb fingers, but the work was slow. The silk holding him up had just been tied and untied, but the strands on his legs were woven in place and refused to cut under the head of Barbara’s axe. They all had to be unraveled, thread by thread. 

Suddenly Barbara was yanked away and thrown to the other side of the room, landing with a harsh grunt.

The thing snarled at her, eyes focused and clear now “I am going to spend _ days _ killing you mortal!” she lunged, but Barbara managed to duck and parry her with the axe.

Jim managed to tear the last of the silk on his legs and struggled to his feet. He had to help his mom. She might be holding her own against that thing for now, but that wouldn’t last forever.

He had already failed him mom once tonight. Not again. Not this time.

Blows and blades didn’t work on the thing, Barbara’s axe wouldn’t do her any good in the long run. He needed to find a way to hurt it, wound it. He needed--

His foot stumbled across something. 

Looking down Jim saw the leg his mom had hacked off at the joint. The same leg that had cut down the bundle.

That had cut through the unbreakable silk.

An amorphous half idea of sorts took shape. Not a plan. But something.

The thing’s cackling laughter caused him to snap his head up. It had his mom on the ropes. Back to the wall and swiping at any limbs that came close with an axe that now looked significantly worse for ware.

She needed back up _ now _.

Jim fumbled at the severed limb with bound hands. Gritting his teeth as the silk bit into the already tender skin on his wrists. He managed to grip it right near the tip, just inches below a wickedly sharp looking talon. Weapon in hand, Jim slowly advanced towards the thing. It was distracted with his mom right now, but not for long. Jim was only going to get one blow in, he needed to make the most of it.

With a crack, the thing knocked the axe out of his mom’s hands and all the way to the other side of the cave.

In a flash of movement Barbara was pinned to the cave wall by a single malformed hand. It let out a triumphant cackle.

Jim crept closer, palms sweaty against the slick chitin, black talon gleaming in the moonlight. He was right along side it now, gnarled limbs and bulbous body just inches away from his face.

“Oh how I’m going to enjoy relieving you of your skin,” it taunted, relishing in its victory “I’ll think I’ll string you up so the boy can watch,”

Jim was shaking all over, whatever shot he took he had to take it now and make it count. 

Nerves screaming, he raised the talon and slashed down at the thing’s body with all of his might. 

He’d been prepared for resistance, braced himself for it, but there was none. Only a sound akin to sliding scissors through wrapping paper. 

A line opened up on the black bulb in front of him, black blue fluid beaded started to weep from it.

For a brief instant things were silent, then the thing let out a long, undiluted howl. Throaty and raw, inhuman, the sound a bear or a lion might make if they were wounded.

Or angry. 

The thing whirled on him. Jim staggered back, losing his grip on the leg.

“_ You miserable brat! _ ” It backhanded him into the wall, pain exploded in the front and back of his chest, the air was forced out of his lungs, his vision swam, and something had _ cracked _ inside him _ , _ stabbing him with every breath “By the time I’m done, you’ll be _ begging _ me to die! I’ll--”

She cut off and spun her head around. Barbara was standing by the cut in its thorax, one hand buried to the wrist inside of it. There was no fear on Barbara’s face, not even anger.

Only raw, unyielding determination. 

She ripped her hand free, tearing out a fistful of putrid yellow guts.

The thing howled again, even louder and coarser this time, shuddering with agony. It didn’t sound like his mom anymore, it didn’t even sound remotely human. It glanced back towards Barbara. 

For the first time, the thing looked afraid.

Jim struggled to his feet as the thing tried to scramble away. Barbara wouldn’t let her. She kept pace with it, and every time the thing moved away from her she kept a fistful of its organs. All the while the steely look on her face didn’t waver as she dragged more and more of the things insides out. 

The thing’s screams intensified, bouncing off the walls and echoing around the chamber. Her movements were wild and frantic as it tried to escape. Legs jerking and twitching while they struggled to support her wounded body.

Acting on impulse, as soon as it came close enough, Jim grabbed one of its legs and yanked, ignoring the pain shooting through his knees and torso. Taking advantage of the limb his mom had severed earlier to unbalance the thing, sending her sprawling on her back, its dozens of limbs now flailing in the air, a writhing forest of ebony and claws.

Undeterred, Barbara continued to pull at her insides. But it didn’t seem to be killing it. Every piece Barbara took seemed to make the thing scream louder, thrash faster, fight harder.

Jim ran to his mother’s side. They had this thing on the ropes now, they couldn’t let up, the two of them were never going to get another chance like this. They needed to finish it _ now _.

Evading the thing’s flailing claws, Jim slid to the ground at Barbara side, wheezing as his bruised knees hit the stone floor. Knowing what needed to be done, even though the thought made him ill, Jim shoved his bound hands into the thing’s body, and pulled.

Once at a Halloween party back in elementary school, Jim had played a game where he stuck his hand into various boxes, supposedly to feel different body parts. Guts had been represented by a bowl of cooked spaghetti.

In real life it felt nothing like spaghetti. Scorching hot, raw and bloody smelling, thick and rubbery, fighting him every step of the way, still Jim pressed forward.

The world narrowed to the bloody guts in his hands and the thing’s screams in his ears. All thought abandoned him except to pull, and tear, and rip. 

Despite the screams in his ears and the bile on his tongue. His stomach heaved, he was going to-- No. He was still gagged. He couldn’t do that while his mouth was still tied shut.

Focus. Tear.

Rip and rip and _ rip _.

Suddenly oily, indigo fluid gushed out of the thing’s open wound as something tore deep inside it. 

The thing’s screams lowered into a hoarse croak, her thrashing limbs slowed, until they were twitching almost lazily in the air.

Jim paused in his tearing, Barbara grabbing him by the shoulders and yanking him back. 

They watched in silence as the thing twiched and moaned, gradually becoming silent. 

And then still. 

Jim sat frozen, unable to process what had just happened, before glancing down at the floor. Immediately he wished he hadn’t. 

The bottom of the cave was an ocean of gore. Tangles of greasy, mustard yellow meat lay in piles all around them, swimming in an ocean of inky blue blood. Reeking with sour, rotten smell that made his eyes burn. Jim look back up at the hollowed thorax. How had this much even _ fit _in her? Looking back down at himself wasn't much better, his entire front was soaked in blood and bodily fluids, hands dripping in it, soaked up to the elbow. Jim's vision swam.

His mom’s tightening grip on his shoulders brought him back to reality. He spun around to face her. She was a mess; dirty, bun fraying, glasses cracked, drenched in rusty red and oily indigo blood.

But she was here. She was _ alive _.

Hastily, Barbara reached for the severed leg and made short work of the silk around his wrists and mouth.

Blood sluggishly made its way back into his hands, stingining with pins and needles. Jim raised shaking fingers up to the mass of gauze on Barbara’s neck, held in place with silver duct tape.

“Is-- is this-- are you--” he couldn’t finish, voice weak from the confines of the gag, emotion clogging his throat.

Barbara wrapped his fingers in hers, soft and warm “Don’t worry, I’ve got some butterfly bandages on under all this,” she smiled at him, the weak, warbly kind that meant she was scared out of her mind but still trying to make him feel better “It’s not ideal, but it should be alright for now,”

She straightened up, suddenly more serious “What about you, are you injured?”

“A-- a-- little bit,” his wrists had thin cuts from the silk, his knees throbbed in unison, legs weak. And if he inhaled too deeply his chest burned from bruises and what he was almost certain was a broken rib or two. But nothing dangerous. Nothing permanent “M-- my knees and my ribs... but nothing bad,”

He looked up at her, eyes brimming, his entire body felt limp and warm. He thought she died, he thought _ he _was going to die. But they both made it out. 

Alive and safe.

Jim slumped forward and dug his fingers into her scrubs, wanting so badly to hug her but not having the strength “I was so scared,” his voice was tight and small “I thought you were dead, I thought I was going to…” he trailed off, the fate he'd narrowly avoided too horrible to put into words.

Barbara wrapped her arms around his shoulder, mindful of his wounded ribs and squeezed as tight as she could “I was scared to,” she whispered, voice brittle with equal parts exhaustion and relief “When that thing dragged you away I thought I was never going to see you again...” 

They stayed like that for a while. Sprawled on the cave floor, the only sound their gasping breaths and the occasional sob, holding onto each other as the adrenaline slowly drained away. Leaving only the relief that it was over and the horror of what could have been. 

Jim was reluctant to move, secure as he felt. But they weren’t safe here, not really.

The smell of must and rot. The bundles suspended from the ceiling, still twitching. The thing’s stinking, disemboweled carcass. This was a bad place, not somewhere to linger.

He forced himself to push away from his mom “We need to leave…”

Barbara briefly glanced around before nodding in agreement “Right, can you walk?”

Jim gave his leg an experimental flex and winced “I think I _ can _ walk, but it's going to hurt,”

She set her mouth into a grim line, clearly displeased about the idea of Jim walking on injured joints, before standing and pulling him to his feet regardless.

The going was slow, Jim leaning heavily against Barbara, struggling not to wince as each step sent a bolt of pain through his legs. But the two of them kept a steady pace as they sluggishly made their way out of the cave. He glanced back at the suspended bundles before they disappeared around the corner. They would have to come back, do something for...them. But right now they needed to get to the clinic; have someone check out his knees and chest, fix Barbara’s neck wound for good. 

Moving slowly but surely, they eventually stepped out of the cave and into the bright, moonlit forest. 

Jim blinked, relishing the fresh air on his face. Now that they were back outside, the full moon in the cloudless sky illuminated everything, so bright it was almost like day. He glanced wildly around, taking in the silver washed forest as he and Barbara moved through the trees.

Something caught his attention. Jim focused on the spot, even as his mom tugged him onward. One of the shadows up in the trees was thicker, darker than it should be. He narrowed his eyes, what was tha--

The shadow _ moved _.

Thumping on the ground directly in front of him and his mom.

Jim gasped and Barbara screamed as she yanked him back towards her.

The figure in front of them was smaller than the thing that they had just killed, but somehow even more menacing.

At first glance it looked almost human; two arms, two legs, semi-normal proportions. A closer look revealed the truth. The thing was made of stone, like some ancient statue. Crumbling, rotting, slowly being reclaimed by roots and lichen. A large pair of horns curled around its head, golden black eyes glowed with sinister light, fangs peered out of a smirking mouth.

It, he? Let out a low, dark chuckle “I never would have thought that the Yevabog could be slain by mere humans,” he looked them up and down “But I suppose that the Trollhunter’s beloved would be no ordinary fleshbag,”

Jim's forehead wrinkled in confusion even as his heart pounded in fear. Trollhunter? Beloved? What did that even me--

Barbara took several frantic steps backwards, pulling Jim with her “Don’t come any closer!” her voice was high and thin, bordering on hysteria “_ I swear to god if you even try to touch my boy _\--”

“Worry not,” he sauntered forward, a sleek cat stalking two battered, bloody mice “I have no intention of harming either of you,” he pulled out something fastened to his belt “After all, hostages are no good to me dead,”

Something about the way he said the word hostages made Jim shudder.

Barbara tightened her already bruising grip on his arm, tensed in preparation to bolt. 

But before either of them could make a move, the thing in front of them threw the contents of a small bag at them, covering them with fine yellow dust.

Quick as a flash, Barbara clapped one hand over his mouth and nose, the other going to hoist her scrub top to cover her own face. Slower to respond, Jim covered her hand over his mouth with his own. Blood rushing in his ears, desperately hoping they hadn’t breathed any of it in yet.

The statue thing laughed, a dark, hollow sound that rattled in Jim’s bones “Such determination,” he stepped even closer, mere feet away now “I can almost see why the hunter was so taken with you,”

Even has the thing spoke his words were becoming faint and echoey, the world started to blur at the edges. His mom’s iron grip on his mouth slackened.

Dimly, Jim was aware that they had not blocked the poison in time and were now feeling it’s effects. But it was getting hard to see, think, act. His thoughts felt distant and dull. The world was blurring at the edges and slowly fading away.

There was a soft thump behind him as Barbara collapsed. Jim’s legs wobbled, he struggled to remain upright, but to no avail. He sank the ground right in front of his mom. Flopping back against her stomach when he couldn’t support the weight of his torso anymore. 

Jim sluggishly blinked up at the night sky. The last things he was aware of were the glowing, silver moon, two gleaming golden eyes with a fanged grin, and the warmth of his mom against his back.

And then darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> TDLR: A spider monster abducts children, cocoons them in silk, and injects them with venom; preserving them in a state of living death so she can feed on them over long periods of time. Barbara and Jim kill this monster by disemboweling it with their bare hands in a long, drawn out scene.
> 
> I've been wanting to write something horror focused for a while, then a couple of weeks ago the inspiration bug hit me and I came up with this. Some of my main inspirations (Besides Trollhunters) for this story were Coraline, Stephen King's It(book and movies), and the book Lost Gods by Brom.
> 
> To fill in the gaps, the Janus order was responsible for sicking Yevabog on Jim and Barbara because the Trollhunter is in love with one of them. At the end Angor Rot kidnaps them for the exact same reason. I intentionally left the identity of the Trollhunter, as well as who the Trollhunter is in love with, Barbara or Jim, vague so it could be open to reader interpretation.
> 
> I fully intended the ultimate ending of this story to be Barbara and Jim getting rescued, but I couldn't find a way to do this without disrupting the tone I had going. If I can ever find a way to write that out while keeping the tone consistent, I may go back and do that some day.
> 
> Thanks for reading, Happy Halloween!


End file.
